


Undertaking Operation Mistletoe

by PursueCrazyLife



Category: Wooden Overcoats
Genre: Antigone is a 100 percent done, Christmas Jumpers, Don't Take This Too Seriously, Dorks in Love, Eric awkwardly flirting, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Rudyard in denial, Rudyard is secretly romantic, extreme Christmas decoration, kissing under the mistletoe, minor injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PursueCrazyLife/pseuds/PursueCrazyLife
Summary: Christmas Eve is the worst day in the year. What makes matters even worse is that Eric Chapman has invited Rudyard to his Christmas Party. And then there is the whole matter of the mistletoe.
The obligatory Christmas/Mistletoe fanfiction every fandom needs





	

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes in advance. 
> 
> We have talked about the necessity of a mistletoe kissing scene on Tumblr. Of course we were all hoping for one on the podcast, but you can't have everything. So I decided to write one myself which was fun, and turned into this strange sappy fanfiction, I hope it's the positive strange sappy kind. I'm not really sure how I feel about this....
> 
> When I wrote this I hadn't listened to the Christmas special, so naturally I thought Rudyard hated Christmas. Let's just say this fic is a little AUish
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and a Merry Christmas to you

Tomorrow was the worst day of the year. Christmas Eve. People would be in a cheerful mood, and too alive for Rudyard's liking. To make matters worse his least favourite person, in the entire world, approached the funeral home.

 

“What are you doing here?”, Rudyard asked.

 

“Oh, just wanted to check on you”, Eric had one of his trademark smiles plastered on his face. “How are you doing?”

 

“I don't know what you're playing at, Chapman. But I want you to stop. Don't you see we have our hands full?”

 

Eric looked at the empty funeral home. A sign hanging on the wall that read: '30 days without body'.

 

“Sure. I don't want to keep you. Just one thing.”

 

Rudyard signed, “Yes, what is it?”

 

“Did you mean what you said?”, his blue eyes bore into Rudyard's.

 

“Have to be a little more specific than that, Chapman.”

 

“You know what I mean”, Eric had stepped closer.

 

“I'm not in the mood for playing your games. How many times do I have to tell you, I didn't mean to kill you. That was Jerry's doing, not mine. But that's all you're gonna get from me. I refuse to apologize. Because I don't even need to apologize. In fact you should apologize.”

 

Eric rose an eyebrow, “Why?”

 

“You are infuriating, that's why.”

 

“But did you mean it?”

 

“What?”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

“Use your words!”

 

Eric didn't say anything. Just staring at Rudyard. What was his problem?

 

“I don't have time for this. Now scoot. ”, Rudyard laid a hand on Eric's back, and shoved him forward. Through the jostle Eric's scarf fell to the ground.

 

“You should probably pick that up”, Rudyard muttered.

 

But the other man still had his eyes fixed on him. “I thought about us”, he finally said.

 

“Us...what do you mean by us? There is no us.”

 

“Oh, come on. We're friends, aren't we?”

 

“Friends is a very strong word. And I wanted to kill you, remember? Friends don't do that”, Rudyard thought about it for a moment, “Friends don't try to kill each other, do they? I never had a friend, except Madeleine, so I'm not sure.”

 

“No, they don't.”

 

“Ah, see. Now do you want to pick your scarf up and go, or not?”

 

“You just said you didn't want to kill me”, Eric smiled, dimples showing. Making him look cute...wait...Chapman wasn't cute. His slightly curly hair, his perfectly tailored suits, his blue sparkling eyes were not cute. He was not good looking. No. Not at all. Rudyard stooped down to retrieve Eric's scarf. Their hands connected for a mere second. It felt like a current of electricity surging through his arm. Eric's skin soft and warm. For a mere moment only he and Chapman existed.

 

“Is everything alright....oh, hey”, Antigone stuttered.

 

The spell broken, Rudyard let go of the scarf, and straightened himself. “Chapman was just about to leave.”

 

“My offer still stands, Antigone”, Eric smiled even more broadly, and then he winked at Rudyard. Winked? No, definitely a trick of the light, right?

 

“I have to...I...”, Antigone kept glaring at her brother. Seriously, what did people want from him today?

 

“It still stands. Or we could all work together. Merge us...ahem...merge the funeral homes. Not us”, Eric started to blush. Biting his lips nervously. “I...I should be heading out. Enjoy yourselves”, he slammed against the door. “Ow”

 

“Are you okay?”, Antigone asked, “We haven't come around to oil the hinges.”

 

“I'm fine. Bye”, he was half way through the door when he turned. “I nearly forgot. You are all invited to my Christmas Party. Tomorrow around sixish.”

 

“Thank you, but not interested”, Rudyard quickly said, noting disappointment on Eric's face. But the latter quickly caught himself. Flashing a brilliant, false smile.

 

“If you change your mind, you know where you can find me.” And with that he left.

 

“What did he want?”, Antigone asked.

 

“Nothing”, Rudyard quickly answered.

 

“We are going.”

 

“What?”

 

“We are going to the Christmas Party”, his sister demanded.

 

“No, we are not going.”

 

“Rudyard...please. It has been a very disappointing year.”

 

“Isn't every year disappointing?”

 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. I know life is disappointing in general, but I need something happy.”

 

“But you hate Christmas.”

 

“No, I don't.”

 

“You cried at the nativity scene.”

 

“Only once.”

 

“No, every time, and it's not even a sad moment.”

 

“Please, Rudyard. Just let us go there.”

 

“Go yourself. I'm going to spend Christmas here with Madeleine. We're going to eat mince pies and open up Christmas crackers.”

 

“We don't even have a tree.”

 

“Look outside.”

 

“That's an oak tree”, Antigone threw herself into one of the chairs. Crossing her arms.

 

“I don't see the problem.”

 

“I'm going there.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

“And you are coming with me.”

 

“Why do I have to come with you?”

 

“Because I don't want to go alone.”

 

“Then take Georgie with you.”

 

“I want to go with you, Georgie and Madeleine.”

 

“No, Antigone, I don't want to go.”

 

“Then I'm going to revoke that I'm glad you exist.” He shouldn't mind that, but somewhere deep down he had enjoyed the last weeks when he only had one major argument with his sister a day instead of twenty.

 

“And you're going to wear your new suit.”

 

“Don't press your luck.”

 

“Eric's friends are all so pretty, and for once I don't want to be the one that stands out.”

 

“I am not wearing that suit. End of discussion.”

 

 

“The new suit itches”, Rudyard complained as they were standing outside Eric's funeral home, “Since when is it snowing?”

 

“Since Eric owns a snow making machine.”

 

“For goodness' sake”, Rudyard muttered.

 

In the meantime Antigone had knocked on the door, and Eric opened up. Instantly they realised their mistake. Today he didn't wear his usual suit, but a red jumper with a reindeer on it.

 

“We didn't know....”, Antigone started.

 

“Oh blimey, I forgot to tell you we are all wearing Christmas jumpers. But it doesn't matter really...”

 

“We will embarrass ourselves”, Antigone already breathed quicker. On the verge of panic.

 

“I don't think you'll...”, Eric was interrupted by Georgie. “I have two jumpers back home. Let's fetch them, Antigone.”

 

“Yes, yes that's a good idea.” They already turned towards the street.

 

“Hey, what about me?”, Rudyard protested.

 

“We'll be right back.”

 

“But...”

 

“Come on in. I have a spare jumper”, Eric motioned him to enter.

 

“Of course you have”, Rudyard grieved over the missed opportunity of a nice night at home, alone. Eric handed him a glass of mulled wine. Rudyard stepped into the hall, nearly blinded by bright lights.

 

“Do you like it?”, Eric asked anxiously.

 

“It's...I...”, Rudyard waited until his eyes had adjusted to the brightness coming from the chain of lights hanging everywhere. Wrapped around the railing of the stairs. Tinsel covering the entire walls and ceiling. A large Christmas tree in the centre of the room. Two smaller, but even more heavily decorated trees stood left and right from it. Red ribbons tied around everything.

 

“Did you do all this by yourself?”, he finally asked. Maybe it was the in the warm glow of the lights, but he could have sworn Eric's cheeks had turned red.

 

“Yes”, he looked away, smiling.

 

“It's very...”, Rudyard couldn't find the right words.

 

“Do you think I overdid it?”, Eric asked, wringing his hands.

 

“Ahm...no.”

 

“Oh, thank God. Because I thought maybe three trees were enough.”

 

“Most certainly”, Rudyard didn't add that they didn't have a Christmas tree at all.

 

“But I love Christmas trees, and I still had so many lights, so I bought some more.”

 

Rudyard choked on his drink, “What?”

 

“Yes, ten more.”

 

“Ten?”, Rudyard needed to sit down.

 

“One of them is only with candles. It's amazing. I'll show you, it's next to my room.”

 

“Your room?”

 

“Yes, we still need to fetch the jumper.”

 

Upon descending the stairs Rudyard's concern grew. After having seen the sixteenth plastic snowman he was worried, maybe not worried. Worry was such a strong word concerning someone he wasn't even friends with. But if Chapman was going crazy then Rudyard would be the first to experience the repercussions. “Chapman, are you alright?”

 

“Sure I am”, Eric flashed him one of his dazzling smiles. “I'm feeling quite festive, actually.” Rudyard shook his head.

 

“Hey, come on don't be Scrooge.”

 

“I'm not.”

 

“Not after you've seen the tree.”

 

He could smell it from a few feet away. An overpowering smell of candles, and smoke.

 

“I love candles”, Eric said, but kept staring at Rudyard. Which, in turn, made Rudyard nervous.

 

“Nice tree.”

 

“Yes”, Eric's eyes still fixed on him. He stretched his hand out. Coming nearer.

 

“What are you doing?”, Rudyard asked trying to pull away.

 

“You have a bit of snow in your hair”, his fingers gently tugging at Rudyard's hair. “There, now it's perfect again.” With a wider grin than usual, how was it even possible, Eric led him into his room.

 

A large, nice room that still possessed a bed, and a door. Both vital parts that were still missing from Rudyard's. But there was nothing personal in the room. No photos on the wall. No notes scattering on the desk. No clothes laying on the ground. Nothing out of place. Just like Eric, artificial.

 

“Here you go”, Eric handed him a blue jumper with a snowman on it.

 

“I am not wearing that.”

 

“It will suit you.”

 

“It's not even a suit”, Rudyard complained. After a few moments Eric started to laugh, “I see what you did there. You're funny, Rudyard.”

 

He could have had a slow, quiet evening with just himself, and no one else. Why was he even here?

 

“You should change...I'll...ahem...”, Eric tripped over the rug on the floor, but caught himself on the handle of the door.

 

“Are you sure you didn't drink too much mulled wine, or something?”

 

“No, I didn't drink much. Just...ahem...”, he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. Seeing Eric like this, being imperfect, he could almost stop hating him. Almost.

 

“Could you go?”

 

“Yeah, sure. Sorry.”

 

Finally some peace. The jumper was ridiculous, but it belonged to Chapman, so what else should he have expected. Maybe he should take a look around. This could be the only chance. Who knew, there could be something that would help him to bring Chapman to his knees...in the business sense of course, not the other sense. He sifted through the desk drawers, but found nothing of interest. The wardrobe was a huge annoyance because Chapman possessed many very nice clothes. Opening the drawer of the nightstand he found a gun. Loaded with six rounds.

 

“Madeleine, are you writing this down?”, Rudyard asked, not sure what to think about this. The mouse squeaked in acknowledgement. Would this explain his strange behaviour? Was Eric trying to kill him tonight?

 

“Rudyard, your sister and Georgie are back. You need to see their jumpers”, Eric shouted from the hall.

 

“Yes, I'm coming”, Rudyard quickly placed the gun back into its rightful place. “Madeleine, if I die you have to tell them that Chapman killed me, okay?”

 

 

“There you are. Come on down”, Eric and Rudyard met the girls at the large Christmas tree. Antigone wore a jumper with Grumpy Cat on it and the words: 'Worst Christmas ever'. Georgie had the same Grumpy Cat jumper, but with the words: 'Santa claws'.

 

“Cute”, Eric said.

 

“Madeleine doesn't like cats”, Rudyard muttered.

 

“Let's go to the others. They're surely missing us already”, Eric said.

 

“Missing you”, Antigone said. They passed the kitchen. Standing in the doorway were Nigel and Desmond. Kissing passionately.

 

“What are they doing?”, Antigone asked.

 

“Oh, it's a mistletoe”, Eric smiled, eyes again fixed on Rudyard.

 

“I thought only kids kissed under the mistletoe”, Antigone said.

 

“No, not only kids. Christmas is for grown-ups too. Am I right, Rudyard?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Desmond gave them a wave. “Sorry, everyone we didn't see you there. Does anyone else want to have their turn under the kissing tree?”

 

“Desmond, it's a mistletoe”, Nigel corrected him.

 

“Merry Christmas ya filthy animal”, Rudyard said.

 

Eric gave him an eager look, thinly veiled with a serious expression. “Excuse me?”

 

“Oh, he was just reading our jumpers”, Nigel laughed, “We bought matching ones. I think I'll do the nativity sermon in it. It's so comfy.”

 

“I don't know if that's such a good idea”, Eric carefully said.

 

“Son”, Nigel laid a hand on Eric's shoulder, “When you've come to my age you need to do something drastic, something amazing to get new people into church.”

 

“I don't know if that's the right way to do it”, Eric said.

 

“Oh, I think it's great”, Rudyard already rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

 

Antigone gave him a confused look, “Rudyard, since when do you care for religion?”

 

“Religion is important. And even more important is the fact that old people are gonna die from a heart attack when they see their reverend wearing that jumper.”

 

“Rudyard!”, Antigone slapped him. “Ow!”

 

“It wouldn't help you because I would get all the bodies anyway”, Eric said, taking a sip from his drink. Everyone else glared at him. And he stopped drinking. “Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Of course you would get some bodies as well. Depends on the people of course, but you do stand a chance.”

 

“I think we should be going, Chapman!”, Rudyard coldly said.

 

“I am sorry. Listen, what can I do, so you'll stay?”

 

“Nothing. We need to go.”

 

“I could give you the next body.”

 

“But they want you, Eric. Not us”, Georgie pointed out.

 

“Not if I don't take the body.”

 

“Deal”, Rudyard and Eric shook hands. Again a faint tingling in Rudyard's hand. Eric gripping tightly, not letting go. The lights illuminating his blond hair. Looking like an angel. Great, now he started to compare Chapman with an angel. He had definitely read too much Island of Passion.

 

Rudyard pulled his hand away rather forcefully. This madness had to stop. Just because Eric Chapman looked perfect didn't mean that he liked him. He was not going to let this charlatan manipulate himself into his heart.

 

“Let's join the others”, Eric led them to the enormous white Christmas tree.

 

“Eric, there you are. Hello everyone”, Agatha Doyle wore a very eccentric jumper with Santa Claus on it, that wasn't the eccentric bit. The eccentric bit was that Santa Claus had been spiked with a reindeer antler.

 

“Is that blood?”, Antigone pointed at the crimson blots.

 

“Oh no, it's just a little finishing touch for this outfit. A tad of red icing. It's rather suspicious, isn't it?”, she started to laugh.

 

Rudyard asked himself if she should tell her about the gun, and Chapman's possible murder intent. He decided against it. Who would believe him anyway?

 

“I'd love to see the mistletoe in action. Especially yours, Eric.” Eric turned red, coughing slightly.

 

“Look at him. He's such a deer. Do you get it? As in reindeer?”, she laughed again. The others just stared at her.

 

“I'm going to get myself a drink”, Georgie announced, taking Antigone by the hand, and dragging her along.

 

“So Eric, you and me under the Christmas tree?”

 

“Ahm...”, Eric downed the whole glass, “I need a drink. You too, Rudyard?”

 

 

Rudyard followed the other man. They walked to the kitchen. Where the girls were already waiting.

 

“Mayor Desmond, Rev. Wavering could you step aside for a moment?”, Eric asked.

 

Georgie rolled her eyes, “Hey, stop snogging each other's faces off and move.” It worked the two giggled, but walked away from the doorway.

 

“So how are we going to get to the drinks if the mistletoe is hanging there?”, Antigone asked.

 

“You only have to kiss if there are two underneath the mistletoe.”

 

“Are that really the rules?”, Georgie narrowed her eyes.

 

“My house, my rules. I really need that drink”, Eric walked through closely followed by the others. When Antigone, accidentally on purpose, slipped.

 

“Help...I think my heel broke off”, she yelped. Her arms wildly gesticulating in the air. Eric managed to steady her. “Are you okay?”, he asked.

 

“Yes, now I am”, she smiled. The others had walked through the doorway.

 

“I guess you have to kiss me now.”

 

“Don't kiss the traitor”, Rudyard shouted.

 

Eric looked down at her chucks, “Wait, you're not even wearing heels.”

 

“Sorry. But rules are rules.”

 

“You did this just to kiss me?”, Eric asked.

 

“Oh, you know. I always wanted to be kissed. Not that you would be my first choice.”

 

“Not mine either”, Eric muttered which earned him a slap.

 

“Kiss me now!”

 

“Okay”, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Happy?”

 

“No, the mouth.”

 

“Are you in love with me?”

 

“No, of course not...shut up. I could never be in love with you. You're far too ugly...”, Antigone rambled.

 

“Oh, dear God”, Rudyard muttered, burying his face in his hands.

 

“I'm not ugly. Rudyard, tell her I'm not ugly”, Eric panicked.

 

“Everyone knows you have perfect looks, Chapman. Do you want a drink or not?”

 

“But the rules say that you have to kiss me on the mouth”, Antigone protested.

 

“It's just a game, not everything is set in stone. Just a game”, Eric muttered.

 

“Says the one who takes Christmas so seriously that he has thirteen Christmas trees around the house”, Rudyard said.

 

“I like lights and Christmas trees.”

 

With hung heads the pair entered the kitchen.

 

“Is the kissing booth empty?”, Desmond asked. Eric looked like someone who had just bitten into a sour lemon.

 

“Desmond, maybe someone else would like to kiss. Could you keep it empty for those people?”

 

“Who would want to kiss? Oh, wait you? Who do you want to kiss, Eric?”, Desmond asked.

 

“Not interested, Eric”, Georgie said. But the man, again would it ever stop, gave Rudyard this strange look. Slowly he shook his head. As if to wake himself from a fevered dream.

 

“No, other people may want to kiss.”

 

“There you are”, Agatha Doyle came dancing towards them. Already halfway through her fifth mulled wine.

 

“Her? I don't want to judge, but isn't she too old for you?” Eric just glared at Desmond. His glass breaking under the tight grip of his hand.

 

“Sorry, I don't want to judge.”

 

“Let's get the party started, Eric. Come here”, she grabbed his hand, but withdrew again. Examining his injury.

 

“Blood, rather suspicious don't you think? Whatever, I've seen my fair share of blood. Not tonight.” She grabbed his hand again.

 

“I don't want to”, Eric said.

 

“Oh, you want to”, she pulled him closer, but Eric managed to grab Rudyard by his jumper, pulling him along.

 

“What on earth? Chapman, let me go.”

 

“Sorry three people. We don't have to kiss.” Standing in such close proximity Rudyard felt the heat radiating of Eric's body.

 

“We could just push Rudyard aside again”, Agatha giggled.

 

Eric's hand still on Rudyard's sleeve. He didn't let go. They were so close that Rudyard had to be careful not to step on Eric's toes. He should move away. He should take a few steps back, but he didn't pull away.

 

“Rudyard, come here”, Antigone grabbed his arm.

 

“No”, he muttered.

 

The next glass shattered. Antigone staring at her brother.”Did you just say...”

 

“I said nothing.”

 

A smile tugged at the corner of Eric's mouth.

 

“I need a drink. Boys, let me through”, Agatha stumbled into the kitchen.

 

“Now you have to kiss”, Desmond said excitedly. Rudyard wanted to say no. He wanted to say he'd rather die than kiss Chapman. But forgot everything he wanted to say as Eric's hand tightened around his wrist. His other hand brushing across his skin. He felt the wet blood on his cheek.

 

“The rules”, Eric whispered, and leaned closer. Their foreheads touching. His soft lips pressed lightly on Rudyard's. They were even more perfect than Rudyard had even begun to imagine. Not that he ever had any fantasies about it. He did not find Chapman attractive. Eric pulled away, and Rudyard leaned forward, but stopped mere inches from Eric's mouth. What was he doing? This was his nemesis.

 

“Stop it.”

 

“What should I stop?”, Eric whispered.

 

“This. You're seducing me. Stop it.”

 

A rueful smile on his face. “Okay”, he stepped into the kitchen. Letting water run over his injured hand.

 

“Great”, Antigone shoved her brother away, “Of course, who was I kidding? Of course someone as perfect as Eric Chapman would never fall in love with me. But why fall in love with my brother?! What have I done to deserve this? Why does destiny loath me this much?” She headed towards the living room. Georgie on the other hand winked at Rudyard, and followed Antigone.

 

“Are you finished?”, Nigel asked Rudyard.

 

“Yeah, I guess”, Rudyard stepped into kitchen. His knees felt wobbly, and he had to sit down onto the cold tiles. Head swimming. Soon Eric sat down next to him. A wet cloth in his hand he dabbed it onto Rudyard's skin.

 

“What are you doing?”, Rudyard caught his wrist. Trying to ignore the now familiar warm feeling spreading in his chest.

 

“There is some blood on your cheek. Sorry”, he quickly dabbed it away. “See all new again.” Rudyard let go noticing blood on his fingertips.

 

“It's still bleeding, maybe we should bandage it.”

 

Eric rose an eyebrow, “Are you worried?”

 

“No, don't be ridiculous, Chapman.”

 

“You know I do have a first name, don't you?”

 

He rolled his eyes, “Do you have a first aid kit?”

 

“Yep, wait I'll fetch it.”

 

What he had gotten himself into? The evening was getting more and more confusing. Eric came back handing him the first aid kit.

 

“Okay, I don't think you need stitches. Or do you?”, Rudyard wiped blood away. Trying to get a better look.

 

“It doesn't need stitches.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Something I learned a long time...”

 

“Ago”, they finished in unison.

 

“You're not as enigmatic as you think you are.”

 

“You think I'm enigmatic?”

 

“No, I didn't...just...stop being you.”

 

“You are already too deep”, Eric smiled.

 

“What! Are you threatening me?”

 

“I'd never threaten you.”

 

Rudyard pulled Eric's hand on his lap. Carefully removing shards of glass from Eric's skin.

 

“Do you like the Christmas trees? Because Georgie told me you like Christmas trees.”

 

“Did she now?” Eric nodded miserably. “I guess”, Rudyard quickly said.

 

Eric frowned, “Rudyard, what exactly do you like about Christmas?”

 

“Ahm...I don't...why are you asking me this?”

 

“Because I have everything, and you don't seem to enjoy it. Is it because it's mine?”

 

He fiddled with the bandage package. It didn't open.

 

“Here let me”

 

“But you only have one hand”, Rudyard protested. The other man ripped the package open with his teeth that gleamed white like pearls.

 

“Why do you look so perfect?”

 

“What?”, Eric looked up. A few curls hanging in his face. For once his hair not neatly combed, but tousled. And it looked even better.

 

“Nothing.” Eric snickered, and handed him the gauze over. Rudyard bandaged his hand.

 

“You didn't answer my question.”

 

“I just don't like Christmas. That's all. Not everything has to do with you, Chapman.”

 

“You even don't like snow?”

 

“No. What about you? I guess you always had wonderful Christmas holidays. With parents who would give you the best presents.” To his surprise Eric pulled his hand away and stood up.

 

“It doesn't matter. What's in the past is in the past.” For the first time Eric seemed genuinely sad. Which had been, in Rudyard's mind, near impossible.

 

“Thank you, Rudyard.”

 

“It's just a bandage.”

 

“No, not just that. Just, thank you for being you.” Never had anyone complimented Rudyard being himself.

 

“Is this a trick?”, he asked.

 

“No, it's not”, Eric slammed a new glass on the table. “What is it with you? I'm not out to get you, well maybe get you, but in another context. I'm just being nice.”

 

“Nice, because you want something from us?”

 

Eric crossed over to Rudyard. Mere inches from his face. His fingertips on Rudyard's jumper.

 

“I should be scared of you. After all you and your friend tried to kill me.”

 

“Not my friend”, Rudyard muttered, “And I'm not the one who has a loaded gun in my nightstand, even if I owned a nightstand. Are you trying to kill me?”

 

“How did you find the gun?”

 

“I could go to Mrs. Doyle, and tell her.”

 

“No”, Eric paced the room. “Listen, this is hard to explain, but I need the gun for protection.”

 

“Protection in Piffling Vale? Who would possibly want to kill...oh right”, Rudyard muttered.

 

“Yeah, two times. First Marjorie and then Jerry. Anyways I would never hurt you, or your sister, or Georgie and of course not Madeleine. Where is she anyway?”

 

“No, you're not doing this. First you steal my bodies from me, now you want Madeleine?”

 

“I made her a Christmas jumper”, Eric showed him a small knitted jumper.

 

“You made it yourself?”, Eric wanted to answer, but before he could say anything Rudyard muttered, “Of course you did. She'll be happy, I guess.”

 

“Did you mean what you said?”, again this question.

 

“I still don't know what you're talking about.” Eric's expression didn't change.

 

“Did you enjoy yourself at least? I did this for you”, he blushed, looking down onto his shoes.

 

“What?”, Rudyard thought he may have missed something, “Wait, you're not telling me you went all Jay Gatsby on me tonight?”

 

“No, of course not. Did you enjoy the mistletoe?”

 

“I...”, his mouth went dry. For a frightful moment he experienced something he had never experienced before. Fear that if he said the wrong thing Chapman would go away. And for one frightful moment he didn't want that. He wanted this handsome stranger, for that he was Rudyard knew next to nothing about him, to stay. He wanted to find out why Chapman seemed to like him, and more importantly why he himself didn't hate his rival that much anymore. Eric's warm fingers had left his shoulder. Eric stepped away. Biting his lips. His hands starting to wrap and unwrap a piece of tinsel around his fingers.

 

“Would you like t-t-to try again? Just to be sure if you enjoyed it or not?”, he blushed even harder. Rudyard took a step forward touching Eric's hands. They immanently stopped trembling.

 

“Okay”, he smiled nervously.

 

“I...we should probably...”, Eric stumbled forward.

 

“Chapman?”

 

“Yes?”, he almost shouted.

 

“It's this way, or do you have another mistletoe?”

 

“No”, he laughed, “I should have bought another one. Do you like mistletoes?”

 

“Thirteen, or however many Christmas trees you have, are quite enough.” He waited for the other man to say something, but Eric had fallen strangely silent.

 

Rudyard signed, “Very well. Let's do this. Mayor, Reverend, could you please go away?”

 

“Oh, you two remind me of the time I first met Nigel. It was at a wedding. I was feeling rather peckish, so I decided to try out the chocolate fountain, which was scrumptious. In the middle of my tenth strawberry I saw Nigel. And I dare say, he was sexy. So I approached, with the chocolate fountain in hand...”

 

“As much as we would enjoy listening to your captivating tale Chapman and I need to...do something. It's pretty urgent.”

 

“Let the kids have their fun. We'll go to the winter wonderland ponies”, Nigel said.

 

“Ponies, how on earth do have ponies in...you know what never mind”, Rudyard shook his head.

 

“Are you coming my filthy animal?”

 

“Nigel, if you keep talking dirty to me I may have to chain you to a bed.”

 

 

After the excited pair had left they both stepped under the mistletoe. This time Rudyard took the initiative. Because poor Eric had lost all courage, even more nervous by now. Rudyard leaned forward and kissed him. It was even better than the first time.

 

If he had been a character in a bad romance novel, like the one Madeleine had given him '50 shades of Mice', he would have thought their lips were made for each other. Eric, the missing jigsaw piece, the beacon of hope in the sea of misery called life. This moment of love and passion so precious that no money in the world could buy it. Like an illuminated diamond creating a range of colors and feelings brightening the darkness of everyday existence. In the sea of stars Eric was the one shooting star. And other sappy metaphors like that. But because this wasn't a trashy romance novel Rudyard did not think these things at all. He would never read books like that. Never, never... Guilty pleasure? Instead Rudyard thought that it was actually kind of nice. Reluctantly they pulled away. Eric licking his lips. His eyes sparkling more than usual.

 

“I think I love you”, he whispered. Taking Rudyard's hand. The bandage coarse against his skin. He softly intertwined his hands with Eric's.

 

“I think I like you”, Rudyard breathed. Another dazzling smile on Eric's face, this time genuine, not artificial. Rudyard was about to lean in for another kiss when everything turned pitch black.

“What the...”, Eric muttered. Their moment of bonding, which Rudyard didn't see as that, Funn's didn't bond, was interrupted. The grip around Rudyard's hand tightened.

 

“I...I can't see”, Eric's voice shook.

 

“Yes, because the lights stopped working. Of course you can't see.” The other man didn't answer.

 

“Chapman, are you scared?”

 

“No...not scared, just...”, he stopped, exhaling shakily.

 

“We still have candles”, Rudyard said.

 

“But they're upstairs.”

 

“Do you have candles downstairs?”

 

“I don't know.” His hand being gripped even more tightly.

 

“Let's go to the others. Maybe someone there has a light.” They found their way, following the chatter.

 

 

“Hello”, Rudyard shouted into the dark void.

 

“I'm sorry”, Delacroix answered, “I needed to use one of the plugs for my equipment, and I guess with all the other lights the fuse blew.”

 

“It's...okay”, Eric trembled.

 

“What on earth did you plug in?”, Rudyard asked.

 

“My portable radio station. To deliver the groundbreaking news.”

 

“What groundbreaking news?”

 

“That you and Eric Chapman kissed under the mistletoe.”

 

A murmur went through the crowd. A few people may have started crying.

 

“It's none of your business”, Rudyard snapped.

 

“Oh, but it is my business. The island of Passion segment deals with all these sorts of things.”

 

“You destroyed everything Rudyard”, a woman's voice sobbed, “I wanted to reinterpret Island of Passion in the segment Island of Passion together with Eric Chapman on air.”

 

“Me too”, other female voices, and one distinctly not female voice, joined in.

 

“How can such a saucy little minx like Eric just choose you. What happens to the Fungirls?”

 

“The what now?”, Rudyard asked.

 

“The Fungirls as in Fun Funeral Fanclub. Meetings are at 10pm each Saturday. When we die Eric Chapman is the last person who touches us. I'm Erica by the way.”

 

“Is that even your real name?”, Georgie asked.

 

“Well, I can call myself any name I like. Maybe I should have gone with the name Rudyard. Anyway, Eric Chapman, I can still be your rebound after your relationship with Rudyard fails spectacularly. I even made us an own Instagram account. When our relationship starts.”

 

Could this party get any worse? And why was Eric saying nothing at all? He never could shut up, and now he was silent.

 

“If you get to close to Eric Majorie is going to pay you a visit”, Rudyard hissed, not that he was jealous. Why should he be? He didn't care who Eric dated, or kissed with these lips made from heaven. And where he would show off his sweet personality. Not jealous at all.

 

“Does anyone have a light?”, Rudyard asked.

 

“How can you even think of smoking now? It seems rather suspicious. Did you do something I should know about?”, Agatha Doyle mused.

 

“I meant a light. As in a torch, or a lighter, candles.”

 

“Candles are only upstairs.”

 

“Very well, I'll go upstairs and fetch the candles.”

 

“No, could you stay?”, Eric asked him.

 

“Okay, Antigone are you here?”

 

“Yes, can you see me?”

 

“No, of course I can't see you. But I think I can...”

 

“Ow! Watch your step, Rudyard.”

 

“There you are”, he sat next to his sister. Pulling Eric down.

 

“Do you have your phone with you, and can you use the torch on it?”, Antigone asked.

 

“Oh, good thinking”, Eric pulled it out. His other hand still clutching Rudyard's tightly. The phone slipped from his hand. Cluttering onto the floor.

 

“Bugger”, he retrieved it. But the screen had cracked, and stayed black when he tried to switch it back on.

 

“Does somebody else have a phone?” Everyone said no.

 

“Why don't you have your bloody phones with you?”, Eric asked.

 

“We only get reception in one bathroom in the entire town. Why should we carry it around with us? They are heavy, you know?”, one of the guests answered.

 

“Great”, Eric kicked the wall, a faint jingle from the bells hanging from the ceiling, echoed through the room. “If this were a town we would have reception.”

 

“We have two hospitals. We're a town”, Desmond said.

 

“Both are not working”, a tiered voice joined the conversation.

 

“Dr. Edgware, what are you doing here?”, Georgie asked.

 

“I thought this was the hospital?”

 

“Great”, Eric muttered again. His breathing quickening.

 

“I'll get some candles”, Georgie stood up. She tripped midway through the room. A loud crash, and tinsel, fir branches and Christmas balls fell down.

 

“Something is attacking me”, Eric jumped up, letting go of Rudyard's hand. What was the matter with him?

 

“Chapman, calm down. It's just some Christmas decoration.”

 

“But it's so dark. What if something is attacking us, and we just don't see it?”

 

“Well, we had a bat infestation once, or was it vampires? I'm not sure which it was.”

 

“Could you please not talk about that”, Eric said.

 

“Sorry”, Rudyard didn't know how to handle panicky Chapman. Because an Eric Chapman never panicked.

 

“It will be okay”, Antigone tried to calm Eric down.

 

“No, you don't understand. It's so dark. The walls are closing in. What if something happens and...”, he breathed even quicker.

 

“Rudyard, do something”, Antigone hissed.

 

“What should I do?”

 

“Think of something. You always have ideas.”

 

“But not particularly good ones. I...okay, I've got this. Dr. Edgware, could you...”

 

“No, it's useless. All your people are dead. I can't rise people from the dead.”

 

“No, not dead people. We need your help for Chapman.”

 

“Who's Chapman?”, the doctor asked.

 

“The undertaker.”

 

“I thought you were the undertaker?”

 

“No...I mean yes. We're Funn Funerals. We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time.”

 

“Rudyard, hurry up”, Antigone interrupted.

 

“Sorry, Chapman is the undertaker of the other Funeral home. We put the fun in funerals. You know the one?”

 

“That's a strange motto.”

 

“Yes, you're right...”

 

“I can't...can't breathe”, Eric stammered, slumping to the ground.

 

“Well, I can't do anything without examination.”

 

“He has a panic attack”, Antigone said.

 

“Knock him out. Make him sleep. It always works for me.”

 

“Excuse me?”, Rudyard protested, “We're not going to knock him out.” He could hear Eric's strained breathing.

 

“Chapman, breathe.”

 

“I can't.”

 

“Close your eyes.”

 

“But...”

 

“Nobody will hurt you. I'll make sure of that”, he took Eric's hand. “Breathe.”

 

“Please...I can't breathe”, Eric held onto his hand so tight that Rudyard could feel his circulation slowly being cut off.

 

“Eric, listen to me, you need to breathe.”

 

“You called me Eric?”

 

“Guess I did, Chapman.”

 

“I...I liked it.”

 

“Just breathe.” Slowly Eric calmed down. A shudder running through him from time to time. His head resting on Rudyard's shoulder. Normally Rudyard hated any human contact, but surprisingly he didn't hate this.

 

“I've got the candles”, Georgie placed the candle into Eric's trembling hands. It nearly slipped from his grasp. Rudyard wrapped his hands around the candle as well. Their hands touching. Eric was sweaty and pale. Hair damped and curly, falling into his face. Tinsels still sticking in his hair. Carefully Rudyard pulled the tinsel away. Brushing the curls out of Eric's eyes. His hair silky under his touch. Softer than he could have ever imagined.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Eric slowly nodded, “Thanks.”

 

“Don't mention it. Let's get outside. It's a full moon.”

 

“Good idea.” He helped Eric up, and with the aid of the candle they found their way to the outside.

 

 

White snowflakes sailed through the air.

 

“Is your snow machine still working?”, Rudyard asked.

 

“No, it's real snow.”

 

For a while they stood side by side in their ridiculous jumpers, and enjoyed the other's presence. Not that Rudyard would ever say he enjoyed Chapman's presence. He tolerated it.

 

“Did you mean what you said?”

 

“For the last time, Chapman what do you mean?”

 

“You told Jerry that he'd have to kill you before he could kill me. Did you mean it?” Rudyard remembered that terrible moment. The moment he realised he would miss Chapman if he would die.

 

“Yes, I meant it.” A smile on Eric's face.

 

“Are we friends now?”

 

“Friends is a strong word. Let's say acquaintances.”

 

“I can work with that”, Eric smiled. Something strange happened to Rudyard. His mouth turned upwards. Eric did a double take.

 

“Are you smiling?”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“It looks cute.”

 

Rudyard blushed, “I guess I'm happy. I like the snow.”

 

“You do? I thought you didn't like anything Christmassy?”

 

“I liked the mistletoe and the real snow and...you.”

 

“I got the best Christmas present”, Eric said.

 

“What did you get?”, Rudyard asked, trying not to be jealous. Knowing Chapman he probably got an amazing present.

 

“He's standing right next to me.” Rudyard blinked at him in surprise.

 

“Do you want to come inside?”, he asked Eric.

 

“I'd love to.”

 

“I don't have a bed, or a door, but we have candles.”

 

“We can make do”, Eric smiled. Rudyard took his hand.

 

“Merry Christmas, Eric.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Rudyard.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
